Coping
by BananaBirdNova
Summary: By Nova AND Bananbird. When undercover missions go wrong, the special ops team must deal with the aftermath. Their methods are a little unorthodox, but they get the job done.
Author's Notes: Just a "silly" story we came up with during our regularly scheduled conversation. Nova had her hands all over this! We come up with the darndest things when we talk... enjoy the hidden angst!

* * *

The lights in the room shone brightly down into Jazz's optics, a bit too brightly for his liking. The berth he was laying on was hard and cold, and he wiggled uncomfortably. The other mech in the room stood silently by a table of instruments as he inspected some readouts. The room was quiet, and the silence stretched on for several long moments. Jazz vented, a little stressfully. Finally, when he couldn't stand it any longer, he spoke. "Hey come on, can I get out of here yet?"

The medic turned around and glowered at the saboteur. "You're not leaving until I say so, and right now you clearly need medical attention."

Jazz sighed, crossing his arms sullenly even as he lay on his back. "Y' already discharged Bee an' Raj, an' I'm feelin' fine. 'Sides, I've been through worse."

Ratchet walked up to Jazz's berth, a scanner in his hand. "I don't care what you've been through before, the point is you've been through plenty this time." He proceeded to scan a nasty looking wound on Jazz's leg.

Jazz put up with the scan, but when it was over, he started to push himself off the berth. "Well, that's great, but really, I'm gonna be okay. Thanks Ratch, but I c'n take care of m'self."

The medic's hand shot out and grabbed Jazz by the shoulder, forcibly pushing him back down. Immediately, Jazz grabbed Ratchet's wrist and was halfway to flinging him across the room when he stopped himself. There was a brief pause, and then Jazz let the medic go, his hands trembling just slightly. "Sorry," he muttered as he fully got off the berth and left the room. The CMO didn't protest.

Ratchet cursed himself quietly once the med-bay doors closed behind the saboteur. He knew better than to make such a stupid mistake with a member of the special ops team after they'd just gotten back from a bad mission. He'd learned that lesson a long time ago.

o~o~o

Later that day, Jazz found himself craving the company of others. He left his room, with all of his wounds now patched up, and made his way to the rec room. The place was pretty busy, with a little over half the tables occupied by mechs on their breaks. The saboteur walked up to the energon dispensers to get himself a cube, grinning and greeting mechs along the way. Once he had his energon, he scanned the room and quickly spotted his targets. He plastered a grin onto his face again as he approached their table. "Hey, what's shakin' bacon?!"

Bumblebee, Spike, and Carly, who were sitting on the table, all looked up at the enthusiastic greeting and returned it. "Hey Jazz, what's up?" Carly asked as she waved back.

"Th' sky!" replied the saboteur cheekily as he swung smoothly into an available seat. "So what're you two cats doin' here?" he then asked of the humans.

"Bumblebee called to tell us you guys got back from your mission. We wanted to check in," Carly explained.

Jazz rubbed his chin. "Hm, well I think you have t' see Prowl 'bout checkin' in, he handles most of th' administration stuff."

Spike and Carly glanced at each other.

"'Check in,' get it? Ha!" Jazz laughed.

The humans grinned in good nature.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Bumblebee suddenly said. "How about a game?"

"Oh, like what?" Spike asked.

"Let's see, I have cards, we can play something like Go Fish. Or I have Monopoly, Clue, Sorry, Candy Land, Scrabble, Chutes and Ladders, or ooh, Risk!" The minibot started pulling out all kinds of human board games from his subspace, placing them on the table. Pretty soon, there was a pretty sizeable pile in front of them that the humans had to stretch to look over while sitting. "Wow Bee, where'd you get all these?"

Bumblebee shrugged. "I like board games."

"Yeah, and with all these games you can say he… never gets bored! Haha!" Jazz laughed again, slapping the table in mirth.

Carly couldn't help but snicker at the pun. Bumblebee rolled his optics. "Funny, Jazz."

The saboteur just grinned again. He then watched as the humans started rifling through the pile of games. Several minutes later, however, he received a hail through his comm. He frowned slightly as he answered. "Yeah?"

" _There's a meeting in five minutes to discuss your mission."_ came the stark reply from Prowl.

Jazz sighed. "Ah, fine. I'll be there." He cut the communication and stood up, mustering a grin again. "Sorry guys, but I've gotta make like a tree, and leaf!"

Before the others could say goodbye, a shower of leaves fell over them. Spike and Carly stared after the saboteur as he scampered out of the room with a wide grin, throwing handfuls of leaves at random mechs as he went.

Carly turned to Bumblebee. "Hey Bumblebee, I know it's Jazz but… today he seemed especially…" she trailed off as she sought the right word.

"Crazy," Spike supplemented.

"Oh, yeah. Well, you know we just got back from an undercover mission, right?" The humans nodded. "Well, this one didn't necessarily go as planned. And well… we all have our own coping mechanisms."

Carly furrowed her brow in concern, while Spike cocked his head slightly. "Coping mechanisms?" he repeated.

"Yeah. You know, ways to… get ourselves back into normal routine." Bumblebee tried to explain. "For Jazz, well, he likes to crack jokes, make puns, even play a prank or two. He tends to overdo it, but it helps."

"Will he be okay?" Carly asked.

"Oh yes!" Bumblebee quickly responded. "Usually it takes about a day to get back into, um, normal routine." The humans nodded at that. "But hey, how about that game, huh?" the minibot said suddenly, and the three friends turned their attention back to the pile of boxes.

o~o~o

Jazz was grinning when Prowl walked into the conference room. The tactician raised an optic ridge at the cheeky looking saboteur, but continued to his seat without comment. When he pulled out his chair, he noticed a suspicious looking object resting on the seat. He looked back up at the saboteur, and Jazz snickered. "Somethin' wrong, Prowler?" He asked innocently.

After a moment of contemplation, Prowl replied. "Nothing at all." He picked up the object and discreetly pocketed it in his subspace, and then sat down.

The next few minutes were spent in mostly silence, as Prowl studied a data pad and Jazz whistled an annoying commercial jingle that he'd heard recently. After about the fifth iteration of the tune, Prowl glared silently at the saboteur, and Jazz grinned again.

Eventually Perceptor and Wheeljack showed up and took their seats at the table. Optimus was the last to arrive, and he greeted the mechs as he walked to his seat. Jazz grinned extra wide at the Prime. Optimus pulled back his seat and gracefully sat down…

 _ **fffrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrpp**_

A silence descended upon the room as everybody turned to stare at the Prime, from whom the obnoxious noise had just emanated. "...Excuse me," the Prime said politely, and the sound of Jazz doing his best to stifle his snickers could be heard by all. Optimus took out a data pad and reviewed its contents. "Shall we begin?"

When there were no objections, the Prime turned to his Head of Special Operations. Jazz saluted jauntily. "Well, as you prob'ly all know by now, the mission didn' exactly go the way we planned it. We got in fine, Jack's jamming thinger worked pretty well. Nobody noticed us 'til we triggered one o' Soundwave's tripwires in th' Nemesis' computer system. Didn' actually notice it'd been tripped 'til 'Cons started showin' up. Long story short, they caught us, skip-a-dee-doo-dah over that, we got out an' made it home. Didn' manage t'get everythin' we wanted, but we did get this much."

The saboteur held up a datachip between two fingers and passed it down the table to Wheeljack and Perceptor. "Should be 'nough t'figure out how t'break Megsy's Doomsday Device of the Week™."

Wheeljack's head fins flashed an uncomfortable yellow-green as he carefully took the chip from Jazz and plugged it into a datapad. The other officers waited a moment as the two scientists reviewed the data.

"The plans _are_ incomplete…" Perceptor started.

"But this'll be plenty to counter it. Thanks, Jazz!" Wheeljack finished, head fins flashing cheerfully at the saboteur. Everyone at the table could tell it was a little forced, though.

"No prob, mech." Jazz said with a half grin. "Just doin' my job."

"If there is nothing else…?" Optimus asked, looking to Jazz. The saboteur shook his head and the Prime nodded to his scientists. "Alert us when you have finished analyzing the data."

"Sure thing, Prime!" Wheeljack agreed as he and Perceptor got up to leave. "It'll be a piece of cake!"

Suddenly, a plate with a piece of energon cake on it slid to a stop next to the engineer. He looked down on it in confusion for a moment before looking up at a grinning Jazz. "Thanks?" He said, slowly picking it up. Jazz just winked his visor at the mech, and Wheeljack left with his cake.

"An' eat it, too." Jazz muttered to himself, and then chuckled.

"Jazz," Optimus said, drawing his third's attention.

"Yeah?" Jazz drawled.

The Prime gave him a serious look. "How are you doing?" He asked gently.

"Oh, y'know, been better, been worse. Nothin' much t'say 'bout it."

Prowl shot his friend a disapproving look, but said nothing. Optimus observed his officer silently for a moment before letting out a soft vent. "And how are Bumblebee and Mirage?"

Jazz shrugged. "Th'same, I expect. We're all dealin'."

The Prime nodded in understanding. "If any of you want to talk about it-"

"We'll be fine, Optimus." Jazz cut him off. "We always are."

o~o~o

Deep within the mountain, past the innermost reaches of the Ark, a lanky, blue and white mech sat curled up in a tight corner of a small cave. The light of a datapad lit up his face as he read from it, soft classical music echoing off the walls of the earthly cavern. Next to him sat a bottle of high grade, the gentle pinkish glow contributing its light to the tranquil scene.

From the direction of the Ark, a mech silently walked in and leaned against the entrance of the cave. For a moment he observed the spy, and then spoke. "Is tha' your special high-grade?"

"Frag off," Mirage said without a twitch.

Jazz snickered. "A'right, no need t'be cranky!"

The spy slid Jazz an ugly look, then turned back to his datapad. "Frag off… please."

The saboteur grinned. "Well, since y' asked so nicely. Jus' makin' sure I know where t' find ya later… I _am_ th' designated driver, after all."

"Frag you," Mirage shot at his boss's retreating back. The remark was met with a bark of laughter, then he was alone again.

o~o~o

Jazz made it back to the rec room around mid afternoon. Bumblebee, Spike, and Carly were still at their table, now with a large Risk board set up on it. Bumblebee and the humans were currently teamed up against Bluestreak, and the young Praxian was not faring well in the face of their combined skill. Jazz strolled up with a smirk, quickly noticing that the gunner had backed himself into a corner down in Australia.

"Got yourself into a lil' bit of a pickle, eh Blue?" Jazz asked.

Bluestreak looked up with a rueful grin. "Well, just a little bit." He admitted, and then shrugged. "But, I've gotta get going anyway, I've got a patrol in a few minutes with Hound, so I guess you might as well just start a new game with someone else…"

"Aw, too bad. I was looking forward to wiping you off the face of the planet." Carly said with a smile.

"Ooh, li'l lady's got a competitive streak!" Jazz crowed.

"Oh, you don't know the half of it." Spike muttered.

Bluestreak laughed good-naturedly. "Sorry I can't stay, but I'll see you guys later!"

The others said goodbye, and as the gunner left, Spike and Bumblebee started to take pieces off the board.

"I'll finish the game for him."

The four of them looked up as Prowl walked over, a cube of energon in hand.

"Sure, if you want to." Carly shrugged.

"Th'odds are pretty stacked, my mech. Ya sure ya don' wanna start fresh?" Jazz teased.

The tactician smirked. "I think I can handle it. It'll be a fun challenge…" he slid a glance at Carly. "For once."

"Oooooh, shots fired!" Jazz cackled. "Slag just got real!"

"Well then, have a seat, Prowl." Carly purred, a sparkle in her eyes. Bumblebee stifled his laughter and handed Prowl the dice.

"Your turn, sir." The yellow minibot said.

Prowl took the dice and rolled.

Jazz watched the two teams struggle to win ground in silence for several minutes, until suddenly…

"Prowl takes the dice."

Prowl glanced over at Jazz with a slight frown.

"He glances at th' announcer suspiciously, as if he was unaware that th' game of Risk _had_ an announcer. He was mistaken, though, which is somethin' Prowl is not accustomed t' bein'."

The tactician rolled his optics and flicked his doorwings at the mech dismissively.

"He rolls th' dice. Ooh, snake eyes. Not lookin' good for th' offensive army. What will the greatest tactician do next?"

Prowl turned to him. "Stop that."

Jazz just grinned at the mech. Prowl narrowed his gaze, and then turned back to the board.

"He takes th' dice again! Th' battle may've been lost, but th' war is far from over."

Prowl gave a long-suffering sigh while Bumblebee, Carly, and Spike snickered.

"He rolls again… a six an' a five! An excellent roll from th' offensive army. And what o' th' defenders? Four an' two, no good. Tha's a loss f' th' defending army. Better luck next time, Team Carly."

"How come Carly's in charge?" Spike wondered.

"Because." Carly explained simply.

"Team Carly argues th' chain of command while Prowl rolls again. He's really determined t' push this attack. Will th' greatest tactician ever make it out of Australia?"

As the game and the announcements continued, they began to draw attention from the other mecha in the room. Pretty soon a small crowd of off-duty Autobots had gathered around to watch, laughing at Jazz's commentary. After several more turns, it was starting to become obvious that Prowl wasn't going to be able to turn the game around. He paused to think.

"Th' greatest tactician ponders his predicament. Never before has th' greatest tactician surrendered to the enemy. Could this be th' end?!"

Prowl's doorwings went stiff as he suddenly seemed to recognize what Jazz was doing, and he slowly turned to glare at his friend. Jazz's visor was bright and unforgiving as he grinned widely. After a long moment of staring, the Praxian picked up the dice again.

"No! Th' greatest tactician refuses to back down! He's determined t'take this all the way to the bitter end!"

The crowd cheered.

"Five an' three, a decent roll, and how does Team Carly respond? Six an' three! That's a double loss for th'greatest tactician! But does he surrender?!"

Prowl sighed.

"NO! He takes th'dice again! What determination! What valour! What will happen next?!"

The dice were rolled and the crowd reacted with enthusiastic cheers or boos.

"Another loss for th'greatest tactician! What an unfortunate streak! With only one army left, he can't attack again. Control goes t' Team Carly. What will they do?!"

The crowd hushed as Carly met Prowl's gaze fearlessly. A glint came to her eye, a smirk tugging at her face. She pointed imperiously at the attack dice.

"Th' ruthless queen attacks! No mercy for th'greatest tactician! They roll… AND IT'S A WIN FOR TEAM CARLY! THE CROWD GOES WILD! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! STOP THE PRESS!"

Suddenly, a Cybertronian sized roll of newspaper smacked Prowl across the face. He ducked as Jazz wildly swung the paper again and again, enthusiastically beating the tactician over the head with it.

"NEVER IN THE HISTORY OF PROWL HAS HE LOST A GAME OF RISK! AND TO A HUMAN, NO LESS! THE SHAME! THE SHAME! WILL HE EVER LIVE IT DOWN?!"

Prowl caught the saboteur's wrist, halting the onslaught, and gave the mech a displeased look. Jazz returned a rueful grin and subspaced the paper.

"Sorry. Got a lil' carried away, there."

Prowl turned to Carly, who was red-faced from laughing. "Good game, Carly." The Praxian said politely.

"I'm up for a rematch any day, Prowl." She agreed, wiping laughing tears from her eyes.

The tactician nodded and rose, sweeping out of the room with his doorwings held high. The crowd dispersed quickly, laughing and chatting about the entertaining game.

Carly, Spike, and Bumblebee high-fived, laughing over their victory again, and then Spike glanced at his watch.

"Oh, wow, it's later than I thought. We'd better get going, Carly."

"I guess," the young woman agreed. Both humans automatically looked to Bumblebee.

"Um…" Suddenly, the yellow minibot looked almost uncomfortable.

"I'll walk you guys out." Jazz offered quickly.

"Okay." Spike agreed with a shrug. The saboteur offered his hands for them to climb onto, tilting his helm with a small smile at his relieved subordinate.

Bumblebee started cleaning up the Risk board as Jazz walked away with the humans, and then rifled through his stacks of board games, glancing around the rec room for someone else to play a different one with.

o~o~o

Later that evening, the saboteur paid another visit to Mirage's hideaway. As he approached the entrance to the cave, he could hear the graceful tones of Moonlight Sonata echoing down the tunnel. Once he arrived, he glanced around and quickly spotted the source of the music; a lone datapad lying on the ground, along with several-scratch that-about ten or so empty bottles that once held high grade. However, the cave was devoid of any lanky, blue and white spies.

Jazz stood by the entrance and stared at the scene for a moment. Then he shook his head and went to pick up the datapad. "I dunno know why I'm surprised," he muttered to himself. "Better find 'im… b'fore he starts sayin' stuff he shouldn't."

He turned the music off and set the datapad back among the bottles where he found it. He then set out to find his missing operative.

After several minutes of wandering, Jazz found the first and only clue he needed for his search. " _Knave, how dare you refuse a noble Knight of the Round Table!_ " The voice of none other than Mirage came from a nearby hallway. A moment later, Powerglide came around the corner at a fast walk, a look of mild concern on his face.

"I think there's something wrong with Mirage," the minibot commented to Jazz.

"You don' say?" Jazz returned, a half grin on his face. "Don' worry, I'll handle it."

The saboteur rounded the corner, and was met with an amusing yet strange sight. There stood Mirage, one hand on his hip and the other banging aggressively on a door. " _Open sesame I say! Do you know who I am?!"_

Jazz strolled up to the mech as casually as he could, and leaned against the wall next to the door. "So Mirage… whatch'a doin'?"

The other mech turned a haughty, if a bit unsteady, glare to Jazz. _"Peasant! Tell them to open this door! I, Sir Mirage, demand entrance to this fortress!"_

Jazz struggled to hide a grin as he shrugged. "Very well, Sir," he said. He reached over and pressed the appropriate button on the door's keypad. The door swished open to reveal… a storage closet.

" _Very good, thank you peasant."_ Mirage then casually flicked a bottle cap Jazz's way. Jazz easily caught the object.

"Thank you kindly, Sir!" The saboteur grinned.

Mirage stepped into the closet and Jazz pushed the button to close the door behind him. He went back to leaning against the wall, slipping the bottle cap into subspace, and waited. A few seconds later, there was a loud banging from the inside of the closet.

" _Scoundrel! How dare you imprison me in this foul dungeon! I demand to be released at once!"_

Jazz snickered to himself and opened the door. Mirage tumbled out, faceplanting hard. Jazz snorted, but managed a surprised "Sir Mirage! What are you doing in the closet?"

He reached down to help the very drunk spy to his feet and the mech flailed. " _Unhand me! Knave! I am a noble Knight of the Round Table! To the stockades with you!"_

"My apologies, Sir. I see we're readin' Once and Future King again."

" _Yes, a most excellent tale of adventure and… and… unhand me!"_

Jazz held up his hands, trying his hardest to keep a straight face. "Of course, your Knightliness. I'm here t'escort you t'your castle."

" _Ah, yes, my glorious abode, fairest in all the land. Lead on, peasant."_

"Right this way, Sir." Jazz gestured down the hall. Mirage strode forward, regally weaving his way from one side of the hall to the other. Jazz followed with a grin, making sure to stay just behind the drunken noble to avoid incurring his wrath.

A few hallways later, having passed several 'peasants' and 'knaves', they almost literally ran into the Prime himself.

"Ah, Mirage, how-"

" _King Arthur! My liege!"_ Mirage exclaimed, and nearly faceplanted again as he attempted to bow. Jazz was quick to catch him, pulling him back up and giving Optimus a rueful grin.

/We're doin' th' Round Table thing this time. Ya really shouldn've given him that book./ Jazz explained over internal comm.

/I see./ Optimus replied, amusement in his voice.

"How fares the kingdom, my good Knight?" The Prime asked.

" _All is well, my King. The northern fiefdoms report no barbarian activity since last month, the crops fare well in the east and south, the western waters are yielding bountiful harvests of fish, and there have been no peasant revolts in almost a year. However…"_

"Thank you, Sir Mirage." Optimus interrupted. "Your report is most thorough. I relieve you of duty. You may return to your castle now."

Mirage saluted, almost poking himself in the optic. _"As you command, my liege."_

Jazz stifled snickers as he guided Mirage around the Prime, giving the mech a thumbs up. Around the very next corner, however…

" _Ah, fair maiden."_ Mirage greeted politely.

Jazz bent over laughing while Tracks blinked owlishly at the spy. "What... did you call me?" He asked, sounding confused and slightly offended.

Mirage peered down at Jazz haughtily. _"Peasant! How dare you disrespect this fine lady with your boorish cackling!"_

Hound put a hand to his mouth to hide his own mirth while Tracks gaped in shock. "Are you calling me a femme?!" He demanded.

" _Of course, the fairest in all the lands."_ Mirage said seriously.

"Don't tell Sunstreaker," Hound stage-whispered to Jazz, and the saboteur laughed harder, leaning against the wall for support.

"Well, I-you-What in the world is _wrong_ with you?" Tracks sputtered angrily.

"Don't mind him, Tracks." Hound said. "He's a little drunk right now. Okay, he's a lot drunk right now. He probably needs to be getting back to his castle, too, so we should let him go."

Jazz was starting to calm down and he pushed himself back to his feet, gesturing Mirage in the right direction. "Right, onward to your glorious castle, Sir Knight."

Mirage nodded to Tracks and Hound. _"Fair thee well, lady and noble Knight."_

Hound tugged Tracks down the hall with a smile while Jazz shepherded Mirage in the right direction. Their journey went smoothly for a couple minutes, until they crossed paths with a certain T-Rex.

"Oh, hey, Grim, what'cha doin' over here?" Jazz asked, trying to stay casual as Mirage continued to weave his way down the hall. The spy's movements were starting to get more erratic, and Jazz really didn't want to have to drag him the rest of the way to his room…

"Me, Grimlock, looking for him, Swoop." Grimlock explained, eying the inebriated mech. "You, Jazz, see him, Swoop?"

"Can't say I have, Grim. Have ya tried the med-bay?"

"Hm, no, me, Grimlock, go look in medbay." The T-Rex stated.

"Alright, then, good luck, mech." Jazz turned to catch up to Mirage, and then froze. "Where'd 'e go?"

" _I'm on a horse."_

Jazz whirled around to find Mirage perched on Grimlock's back, posed heroically. "Uhhh…" he articulated, glancing nervously at Grimlock.

The Dinobot looked back at his new rider. "What you, Mirage, doing?" He grunted.

" _Forward, my noble steed!"_ Mirage ordered with gusto. _"Onward to my castle!"_

"'Raj, get off the Dinobot." Jazz commanded firmly.

" _Nay, peasant! For this is my noble steed, and he shall take me to my illustrious abode. Onward!"_

"Me, noble steed, go to med-bay!" Grimlock announced enthusiastically, and took off down the hall.

"Grim, wait!" Jazz called after them, and then face-palmed with a deep sigh before transforming to race after the two.

o~o~o

"And then I said, 'What do you _mean_ we don't have room in the budget to install cameras in the closets? Do you even know how much stuff goes _missing_ out of those every month?' And he was all, 'Red Alert, thing go missing because we use them.' All patronizing, like I don't know what I'm talking about,"

"Uhuh." Inferno muttered. Red Alert went on, but Inferno wasn't really listening. The rant continued for some time before Inferno heard something.

"Wait, Red, do you hear that?"

"What, hear what?" Red Alert demanded, tensing. Inferno looked down at his cube of energon and noticed that the surface was rippling in a steady rhythm, as if the Ark was shaking. That's when Red Alert heard it, a consistent _thump thump thump thump_ _ **thump thump THUMP THUMP THUMP**_!

" _Onward! To victory!"_

Suddenly, Grimlock thundered past the open door to the monitor room. The two mechs stared at the door, and then turned to each other.

"Was that Mirage... riding Grimlock?" Red Alert wondered a little too calmly.

"I… think so?" Inferno replied.

The Security Director jumped up and raced to the door, staring after the duo with his mouth hanging open. "What... the _frack_?!" He demanded. "What is going on? What do they think they're doing, gallivanting around the halls at high speeds? The limit is clearly set to ten miles per hour! They're going to break something! They're going to run someone over! They're-"

Inferno turned as someone quickly drove up behind them. He'd barely identified the mech before Jazz transformed, shoved some sort of black and white object at the Security Director, transformed back into vehicle mode and raced away. The two mechs stood in stunned silence, staring at the large, plush cow Jazz had given them.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Red Alert almost shrieked.

Inferno shrugged. "Well, you were kind of having a cow."

"What does that even _mean?_! How was I 'having a cow?' _How does that have anything to do with what was just happening?_ " Red Alert ranted, violently waving the cow in Inferno's face.

Inferno carefully took the plush from the Security Director's hands. "Can I have it?"

"Well _I_ don't want it… or even need it! What is the purpose of it even?!"

The firetruck mech squeezed the toy in his hands. "I don't know… it's soft and warm."

Red Alert threw up his hands in exasperation and stomped back into his monitor room.

o~o~o

Meanwhile, Ratchet and First Aid were busy cleaning and organizing the med-bay. They had been working in comfortable silence for the last hour or so without interruption. That is, until First Aid turned to his superior. "Hey Ratchet, do you hear something?"

The CMO frowned. "No I…"

The med-bay doors burst open and a Dinobot exploded into the room. "WHERE HIM SWOOP!" Grimlock demanded.

" _Barbarians, send forth your mightiest warrior! I shall reclaim this territory in the name of the once and future King!"_

First Aid gently put down his cleaning supplies. "I'm going to do inventory," he stated and hustled into the back storage room.

Ratchet angrily threw down his cleaning rag and stomped up to the two. "Fraggit, what are you doing in my med-bay?! Mirage, get down from there!"

" _Barbarian scum! You dare defy a Knight of the Round Table?! Off with your head!"_

"Excuse me?! Both of you, out! NOW!" Ratchet demanded.

Suddenly, a black and white Porsche slid through the doorway, quickly transforming. "Heeey Ratchet! I uh, see you found Grim and Raj for me! We were jus' on our way to Sir Mirage's fine castle. Isn't that right, sir knight?"

"WHERE YOU BARBARIAN HIDE HIM SWOOP!" Grimlock roared and stomped further into the room. Mirage tried to gallantly slide off the dinobot's back, only to get his foot caught on thin air and tumble to ground, faceplanting once again.

"What the frag is wrong with you?!" The CMO hollered. "Jazz, what is going on here?"

"Nothin'! Nope, jus' tryin' t' get Raj back to his room. He's… ah… a _little_ drunk," Jazz explained hastily as he tried to drag Mirage to his feet.

"A _LITTLE_?!"

"Yup, jus' a _teensy_ bit. No biggie, I got this don' worry!" The saboteur cheerfully assured the medic.

"BRING ME, GRIMLOCK, SWOOP!" Grimlock yelled again.

From the back of the room, First Aid's head poked out from the storage room. "I saw Swoop! He was… outside! Yeah."

"ME GRIMLOCK GO FIND SWOOP OUTSIDE!" The Dinobot announced and swiftly stomped out of the room.

Ratchet watched, slightly dumfounded, as the large mech left, then turned back to continue yelling at the two spies. However, the room was now completely empty. "Damn special ops," the medic grumbled, grabbing his rag and continuing to clean as if nothing had happened.

Outside, Jazz had Mirage's arm slung around his shoulders as he helped him down the hall. The mech was now too unstable to walk on his own. _"Unhand me-"_

"Yeah yeah, I know, Imma peasant. We're goin' t' your castle, remember? On King Arthur's orders?"

" _Ah yes, fai-"_

"Yes yes, fairest in all th' lands. Shut up." Jazz interrupted.

The rest of their journey was largely uneventful, since Jazz literally dragged Mirage past any further distractions, despite the mech's drunken protests. Finally, they made it back to Mirage's 'fair castle'. "A'right, your royal pain in the aft, here we are at your 'castle'." the saboteur grunted as he pawed the keypad to open the door.

" _Ah yes, fairest of all the castles, in all the… castles…"_ Mirage staggered a few steps towards his room before collapsing.

Jazz stood for a moment, staring down at the now unconscious mech at his feet. He quickly glanced both ways down the hall. "Eh," he said when he saw that nobody was around, and kicked the mech the rest of the way into his room. Once Mirage was fully inside and the door closed behind him, Jazz walked away, whistling a tune.

On his way back to his _own_ castle, he decided to swing by the rec room for a cube of energon. The room was completely empty when he entered, most of the lights turned off for the night. In silence he got his cube and turned to leave, taking a sip. "G'night Bee," he called over his shoulder just as he was exiting.

"'Night, Jazz," Bumblebee's muffled and sleepy voice replied from the rec room's air vent system.

Jazz smiled to himself, taking another sip and striding down the empty hallway. They all dealt with the horrors of war in their own, sometimes insane ways. He wasn't going to pretend it was normal, but they'd be okay.

They always were.


End file.
